Fuses
by mattmetzger
Summary: Leonard blows a Vulcan fuse or two. Spock...has his fuses blown. Please note rating.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: This is PORN. Unashamed, unabashed PORN. That actually reduced my soundboard to keyboard spasms, so it is intense porn. BE. WARNED.**

**Further notes: This is also Part One of Two. More porn to come. (Oh God, bad pun. I'm sorry.)**

**Warnings: light kink, dirty talk, drug use, explicit sex (duh), McCoy generally being a BAMF top.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek 2009, and I make no profit from this work.**

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><p>Spock eyed the plush red carpeting under their boots as Leonard wrestled with the room keys, and arched an eyebrow.<p>

"I believe the phrase is that you have 'splashed out'?"

"That's right," came the amiable response as he opened the door and ushered Spock inside. "Ensuite with a shower _and _bath, balcony with a sea view, and a bed big enough to fit the whole damn bridge crew. Whole nine yards."

The other eyebrow joined its twin. "Will the command crew be joining us?"

"Not a chance," Leonard grinned, locking the door behind them and dropping the suitcase. "Just you and me, four whole days. Haven't had nearly enough time to get you all to myself lately."

"Am I going to be able to _leave _this room at any point?" Spock quipped.

"Not likely," Leonard shrugged, dropping down onto the bed and bouncing a couple of times. "C'mere."

Spock allowed himself to be reeled in by the hand, and folded down onto Leonard's lap as naturally as breathing, reaching for the warm skin and stubble-roughened kiss waiting to greet him.

"Are you going to inform me of your plans?"

"You ain't figured it out?" Leonard asked, worming his hands under Spock's shirt and rubbing a thumb over the stutter of his heart.

"I have not examined the contents of your bags."

"Ah," Leonard hummed, kissing him again, before easing him off onto the bed and twisting until they sat facing each other, and not at quite such close quarters. "You can say no to any or all of this, at any point."

"I see," Spock said. "So it is sexual in nature."

"Some of it, yeah."

"_Some _of it?"

Leonard took a breath, and reached for Spock's hand. He had a tendency to touch when suggesting new activities - sexual or otherwise - and Spock paid it little attention.

"I want to give you a relaxant. It won't impair your sexual function, or your mind. It's a common muscular relaxant, very light, and we've used it on you before when you were under the traction fields for your spine fracture last spring."

Spock's eyes flicked to the suitcase - presumably where any supplies of the drug were contained.

"It won't do a damn thing to your mind or your telepathy, and you'll be able to move around freely and do everything as normal - but you'll feel a bit more lethargic about it. It's designed to stop extensive use of the muscles, for recovering trauma patients."

"To what end?" Spock asked.

Leonard's grip shifted on his hand. "Bit of the ego, bit of the caveman ancestor thing. You're a heckuva lot stronger than me, and I want to tip the scales for a while."

Spock got the distinct impression that that was not quite _all _that Leonard wanted, but the doctor tended to more forthright about his more aggressive sexual tastes - like physical domination - than about his more emotional tendencies.

"It will not affect my telepathy?"

"Nope," Leonard said. "Not going down that route again, not after last time. I checked; we've used it on you before with no problems, and I have plenty of the antidote _and _stimulants to combat it should it go funny for any reason."

"Would I be physically capable of overpowering you?"

"Probably not," Leonard admitted, squeezing his hand. "You might be able to make things a little harder for me, but I'd ultimately be able to overpower you."

"So it is...to serve as an alternative form of bondage."

"In a way," Leonard shrugged. "More of a caring aspect to it, Spock, I gotta admit that. If I wanted to tie you down and fuck you, I would. This...I get to manhandle you and get you all relaxed and pliant for me. Play with you a bit. And it'll be novel to be able to look after you when you're not bleeding all over me or pukin' your guts out."

Spock cracked a _very _small smile.

"So, you gonna let me take over for a while?" Leonard coaxed, rubbing his fingers around Spock's thumb.

"Will there be any effect on my voice?"

"No," Leonard said flatly. "No. And listen - you tell me no, and it stops. Right then, okay? If there's anythin' you don't want me doing, you just tell me and it stops. You won't be able to stop me with brute strength this time, and I might not be able to tell the difference between you just pushin' at me, and you _really _pushin' at me, so you say the word, and it's over. Whenever, for whatever reason. Okay?"

"Alright."

"Anythin' you want me to do or not do in particular?"

Leonard had always been very...perhaps edgy was not the right term, but _cautious_, over the use of drugs in their sexual encounters. He was less particular with physical bondage - Spock had been 'surprised' by waking up cuffed or tied on multiple occasions for multiple reasons, and very occasionally, light sedatives came into play. Anything above that, however, and the doctor immediately retreated back into laying out his plans in advance, and waiting for Spock's express consent.

And Spock knew, from prior experience, that his word would be final.

Without that trust, he would not agree. With it, however...he eyed the suitcase again, and said: "I would like permission to access your mind. Not a meld, but...reading surface thought and..."

"Intent?" Leonard guessed.

"Yes."

"Okay," he agreed. "Anythin' else?"

"The loss or diminishment of physical control can be...confusing, and occasionally alarming, so I would prefer it if your mind were accessible at all times."

"Translation: don't let go of me?" Leonard guessed.

"Indeed."

"Oh, I ain't lettin' go," he chuckled. "That's not the point. And I can do that."

"In which case, you may proceed."

Leonard leaned forward to kiss him briefly before rising and moving to open the suitcase. Inside, protected by their mixed clothing, lay a small, grey medical bag, which he brought to the bedside table and opened, displaying four hyposprays and four refill vials.

"Relaxant, antidote, and two different stimulants," he said. "I brought a tricorder along as well, just in case."

"I expected as much."

"Okay," he positioned the hypospray at Spock's neck and looked him dead in the eye. "You sure, darlin'?"

"I am sure."

The instrument pinched briefly and hissed, and then Leonard tossed it almost carelessly back onto the bedside table. He drew Spock up from the bed by the hands and proceeded to strip him down effectively, his hands almost clinically efficient.

"It takes a little while to kick in proper," he drawled, kicking off his own boots and drawing Spock towards the ensuite. "So I'm gonna get you in the shower, wash all that recycled ship smell off you, and by the time we're done, it'll have all settled in."

"Drugs do not 'settle in', Leonard..."

"This one does," Leonard replied cryptically, cranking up the shower and rummaging in the linen closet for towels. "You tell me when it starts. You might go a little weak in the knees, and I don't want to have to grab for you. You're still damn heavy."

He did not, to Spock's relief, push him towards actually getting into the shower until the steam began to fog the glass, and laid out a pile of towels over the heated rail ready for getting out again - and then stepped fully clothed into the shower.

"Leonard, what...?"

The end of the sentence was kissed away, and then Leonard's rough, _skilled _hands were rubbing shower gel over his skin and Spock decided that his strange idea of being _clothed _in a water shower was not of great importance. Leonard had talented hands in most fields, and while his movements were not sexual, they were not entirely clinical either. He projected a faint undercurrent of desire, rippling up under the warmth of affection and the strange, narrow stream of _attention _that meant that Spock was the only thing on his mind.

As loved as Spock knew he was, Leonard was also a _doctor_, and so Spock was very rarely the _only _thing on his mind - and he basked in that direct feed with an almost hedonistic air that he should have been ashamed of. He tracked the warm path of those hands across his body, scrubbing lightly from head to toe and back up again, leaving nothing unturned and hovering in the familiar, almost soft territory between the hands of his doctor and the hands of his partner, so that the touch was luxurious, even pleasurable, but not so much arousing or lustful.

He rested his face into the crook of Leonard's neck and shoulder, and opened his mind enough to brush against the active hum of the human's, and felt a heavy wash of complex, irrational, irritable, _illogical _love surge over him.

"Leonard."

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"I feel...detached."

It was a strange sensation, almost as if his mind was losing touch with his muscles. He could feel them, and they physically responded when he tried to move, but sluggishly, as if the message was not quite permeating the..._haze_, the _lethargy_, that was creeping into his limbs. It was although he were _physically _tired, but not mentally - and yet that was not quite right either.

"I feel strange."

"Alright," Leonard said calmly, one arm coming around to clamp about Spock's waist. "You feel sick or shaky?"

"No."

"Good. Just be a couple more minutes, then we'll get out."

He felt at odds with himself. His limbs felt _heavy_, physically too heavy to move without assistance, and yet his mind felt light, cut off from the weight that tied his body down. He reached - both mind and body - for Leonard, and wrapped himself into the anchor waiting.

"Yeah, that's getting there. Alright. C'mon, darlin'. Nice an' easy."

He was guided carefully from the shower and wrapped in a large bath sheet, a smaller towel going around his head, Leonard's steady hands never straying far or for long. His legs felt like lead - physically able to hold him up, but swaying from the effort, and he clutched at Leonard's shoulders the moment that he came back fully into reach.

"Okay?"

"Yes."

"Come on, then. Come with me."

He was taken from the bathroom, Leonard pushing him to walk backwards, folded against Leonard's wet shirt by two suddenly _powerful _arms, _strong _in a way that he had not appreciated - had not been able to appreciate - before. The kisses began as they left the cold tile of the bathroom: hungry kisses, deep and wet and devouring, kisses that finalised the separation of his mind from his body and left him almost feebly weak, pawing and stroking at the wet fabric of Leonard's shirt entirely ineffectively.

Then he heard the balcony door slide back.

"Leonard!"

He stiffened up - and suddenly the push of Leonard's body against his was stronger, much more forceful, and he found himself being pushed backwards into the warm night air of a Jenerian evening regardless of his protest. He pushed back, but for the first time, the doctor didn't move under his hands, and he was crushed into a powerful surge of sheer _lust _as the next kiss - _demanding_, pure _demand _- pushed past his lips and swallowed his gasp.

"Don't want the neighbours to hear, do you?"

A crushing pressure forced its way onto his shoulders, and the bump at his knees had them buckling, and he _fell_, falling to the balcony floor gracelessly, his body too heavy to control. He clutched desperately for the very man responsible, and found himself on his back, still wrapped in the towels, pinned between the balcony floor and the immovable weight of the man above him.

"Nobody can see us from down here," Leonard breathed, the words more of a growl low in his throat. "The balcony wall will keep them out, but they can _hear _us. They can _hear you_. You wanna do that? You wanna yell? You gonna put up a fight for me?"

Spock suddenly grasped the point of Leonard retaining his clothing as the towels were ripped open, leaving Spock entirely naked and _vulnerable_. It felt _vulnerable_, to be pinned down under this fully-clothed man and exposed to the open air, unable to cover himself or push the man away - when he did, the pressure only increased, and the waves of lust turning into a surging _sea_...

"Leonard, Leonard, _please_..."

"What?" the pressure eased slightly, and Spock reached heavy fingers to pluck ineffectively at the shirt.

"I...I need..."

"Need more skin?"

"Yes."

"I think you're trying to get me naked," Leonard smirked, but stripped off the wet shirt and tossed it aside, stretching out over Spock again as though making himself comfortable.

The added skin - hot, damp human skin that _bled _flurried human emotions - the shimmer of sexual attraction and the heavy wash of lust - allowed for more of the undercurrents to filter through as well, and Spock breathed in the searing heat of possessiveness wrapped in the quiet hum of love, like a heartbeat, echoing in the distance.

He pushed again, and touched a hand to Leonard's pants.

"Oh no you don't," Leonard growled, dragging his hands back up and pinning them between their chests. They felt too clumsy and lethargic to do anything else but be trapped, and Spock's complaint was once again swallowed by a deep, sucking kiss. "I'm taking my goddamn time with you. Gonna spread you out and take you, again and again until you're begging me to stop, and then I'm gonna take you inside and fuck you until that mattress don't bounce."

Spock's chest heaved as he gulped for air, and Leonard sank his teeth into the exposed neck and sucked until a livid bruise swelled up. He abandoned it shortly afterwards, bearing his weight down and beginning to thrust against Spock's bare hip, the wet friction of his pants somewhere between maddeningly erotic and uncomfortably chafing.

"Leonard, _please_..." he groaned, and whether it was the way he said it or the way his hips finally responded to his _brain _and rocked clumsily up into the human's, he found blazing eyes inches from his own.

"Gettin' impatient?"

"Yes," he breathed, stroking clumsily across the stubble on the doctor's face. The rasp was erotic to his fraying nerves, and he felt his breathing shudder.

"You want this?" the doctor reached into his own back pocket, and produced a very familiar tube. "This what you're after? Me stretchin' you open until you're begging for more?"

Spock stretched up, straining against the weight and the drug, to kiss him, and found himself promptly pinned down again, and the kiss broken only in time for him to wheeze for air. He did not regain his breath in time, before the weight was gone, and rough, hot hands were turning him over, face-down into the towels, and his body completely exposed.

"Now this is a view," the doctor drawled, planting one heavy hand into Spock's back to keep him down. He had to be kneeling aside, not touching Spock but for that hand, and all his weight resting on it. "This? This is mine. You belong to me now; all of this," and dry fingers dragged down the cleft of his ass almost threateningly, "is mine."

"Yours," Spock rasped, and the weight descended again, heavy and _pressing _him into the balcony floor. He felt _covered_, he felt _owned_, he felt stripped of everything but _Leonard _and those _hands _and_ lust, desire, possession_...

"Damn right," teeth bit down at the back of one shoulder, and he distinctly heard the cap of the tube being popped off. "I can do whatever the hell I want to you right now, and you couldn't stop me if you tried. And don't think I didn't feel _that _little twitch. That turns you the hell on, doesn't it? Knowing that I got you _completely _helpless, and I could do whatever I wanted, whatever you _didn't _want, as _long _as I want..."

A slick finger suddenly pushed inside, the relaxation from the drug and the lust and the anticipation carving an easier path than usual, and a reactionary sigh breathed its way from Spock's lungs.

"But also," Leonard breathed, very low and very quiet into Spock's exposed ear, "knowing that I _won't_."

Spock took another shaky breath, and twisted his head to gasp out a murmur that was quite possibly not a word at all.

"Speechless," Leonard crooned, biting lightly at the other shoulder, crooking his finger and adding a second. "A damn miracle with you. Is this what it takes? Stripping you down and taking control?"

His fingers dug deeper, and a jolt of white-hot pleasure snapped Spock's spine into a brief, perfect posture before the drug relaxed it out again, and Leonard chuckled, planting his other hand between Spock's shoulder blades and doing it again. The pleasure rippled and bounced off the blocking weight, and Spock shuddered in his grip, pinned like a butterfly on display.

"Leonard, Leonard, _please_..."

"Please what?"

"I cannot...I cannot last..."

"Oh, you'll last," Leonard said idly. "You come before I do, and I'll just start all over again, you got that?"

The answering hiss said that he did.

"And as I'm coming in you, and you're not ready..."

Spock clenched deliberately around Leonard's fingers. "I am..."

"Nope," came the maddeningly calm reply, even as he worked a third finger inside and twisted them, wringing a sharp gasp from Spock's throat. "See? And I know you gotta keep your possessions in good working order. Broken toys are no use to _anyone_."

Spock attempted to push back on Leonard's fingers, but the drug refused to allow him the respite, and he simply shivered between the press of Leonard's hand in his back, and the now-rhythmic flashes of lightning rippling outwards from his working, twisting, _destructive _fingers...

"You get a Vulcan all worked up, and they make humans look chaste," Leonard mused, finally (_finally_) withdrawing his hand and turning Spock over again, manipulating his limbs and head as though handlng a rag doll. "Look at you," he briefly handled the heavy, painfully hard cock before sitting up and reaching into his back pocket. "Desperate for it. You're worse than a cheap street slut."

He leaned right down, propping himself on his elbows either side of Spock's head and dropping his weight to pin him flat again, one hand twisted into his hair and holding him frozen, exposed and helpless and vulnerable. He dragged his head back until Spock's jaw went slack, and pressed the edge of a condom packet between his teeth.

"Open it," he said.

Spock clamped down on the foil, and Leonard tore the packet open, catching the condom and grinning.

"If I were cruel," he said, "I'd make you put it on."

Spock was drowned in another kiss, dragged through another sea of lust - overwhelming, dizzying, _hungry _lust that lapped at his senses and shook his libido into a frenzy he had not thought _possible _- before Leonard retreated again, folding up Spock's legs like paper and settling between his spread thighs as though he belonged there.

And he did.

When he pressed in, slick and hot and heavy, an endless unrelenting _pressure_, Spock shivered with the need to simply _arch_ under the sensation, and then the weight was back, arms sliding around his back and tucking him into that hot chest, the hammer of a heart slamming into his slack hands, and hissing human words sliding over his jaw and ear.

"_Leonard_..." Spock choked, his mind clutching at the feelings and his body sagging, overstimulated and crying out for _moremoremoremoremore _in the doctor's hands.

And then the doctor began to thrust - hard, long strokes, _powerful _strokes, pinning Spock's body in his arms until he was forced to accept them, cleaving him open and leaving him exposed, raw, owned, kept, possessed - he whimpered into the kisses, hands clutching uselessly at Leonard's chest, and if he were drowning then surely the doctor was drowning too, right alongside him.

"Yeah, you c'mon, darlin', you c'mon, I gotcha, I gotcha, I always gotcha, you know that, pinned you down and fucked you open and I'll be damned if you're getting away now so _c'mon_..."

He felt the short-circuit stop-gap pause of thought when Leonard came, and the sharp stutter of his hips, the muscles in his arms and chest suddenly clamping down and clenching with a powerful spasm that sent Spock over the same edge, rattling out his own lust, muscles caught between the drug and the climax, coiling and relaxing at odd intervals, _exposed and vulnerable, without protection, everything gone and collapsed, everything..._

"_L-Leonard_," he breathed. Breathing was...difficult, and he gulped for it, straining to do it until the iron band around his back loosened and Leonard rose up, sliding out of him with a faint grimace and sitting back to rid himself of the condom. He still wore his pants, shucked to the thighs, and he slid them up again easily before crawling forward to press his weight over Spock and kiss him, slow and soft and _gentle_.

"I gotcha, darlin'," he murmured, and caught Spock's still-weak hands when they grasped for him. "Now this is what I was after," he added, running the backs of his fingers down Spock's cheek. "This. You. All relaxed and open. No shuttering, none of that Vulcan _nonsense_. Just you. You and me."

Spock reached, still shaking through the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of his life, to stroke clumsy kisses across Leonard's jaw, and received a crooked smile.

"Think I blew a logical fuse or two, huh?" he mused, easing the towel out from under Spock's head and using it to clean his stomach before folding the larger bath sheet back around him and sliding back up the now-covered body, slipping his hands under slim shoulders and almost cupping them together, rather than gripping. "You back with me yet, sweetheart?"

"...Perhaps not."

"Well, close enough," Leonard said, easing Spock's hands around the back of his neck. "C'mon, you hold on and we'll get you inside. I might have blown a fuse or two there, but your back isn't going to like either of us for a while if we don't sort it out."

Spock relaxed, heavy and pliant, into the arms that hauled him upright, and lacked any of his characteristic grace as he stumbled from the balcony back into the hotel room, wrapped in a cool towel and Leonard's secure arms, wrapped into not lust, now, but the love-heartbeat and the gentle mix of easy concern and ghostly affection.

"There y'go, darlin'," Leonard murmued, pouring him onto the bed and finally - finally - shucking his pants and boxers on the end before crawling up to settle over him. His weight pressed them both down into the mattress, and Spock felt...felt _protected_, almost, surrounded by such fierce possession and gruff gentleness.

"I...do not wish to sleep," Spock murmured, still concentrating his still-hazy mind on the kisses that he brushed over Leonard's jaw and cheek.

"Fine by me," Leonard chuckled, bending his head to kiss him, their lips clinging for a moment longer than they intended. "That drug won't wear off for another five hours, at least. How about I get any floor-induced kinks out of your back, and then we'll see if we can't blow another couple of fuses?"

"That seems...agreeable."

"Agreeable?" Leonard snorted, and delivered a warning bite to the bruise lingering on Spock's neck. "I don't think I blew enough fuses, then."

Spock gave no reply, but to kiss him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: This is PORN. Unashamed, unabashed PORN. That ALSO reduced my soundboard to keyboard spasms - for only the second time in my writing career. BE. WARNED.**

**Warnings: kink, dirty talk, drug use, explicit sex (duh), McCoy generally being a BAMF top.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek 2009, and I make no profit from this work.**

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><p>The muscle relaxant was more powerful than Leonard had led him to believe: when he returned from the bathroom with towels, Spock could offer neither assistance nor resistance as they were slid under him. They had been on a warming rail, however, so he found nothing to truly protest about, and Leonard offered a brief kiss before turning him onto his front and straddling the back of his thighs.<p>

"I can read you like a book," he said conversationally, speaking over the quiet pop of a cap. The faint smell of oil drifted from his cupped palms, and after a moment, warmed liquid pooled in the small of Spock's back. "You've got a tension here and here, and a developing knot there. Your back is going to give you a heckuva fight when you grow old, darlin'."

He spread the oil calmly over Spock's kidneys, barely touching him but for his fingertips, then pressed the heels of his hands into the skin and leaned forward, bracing his entire weight on his arms and making a sharp jerking motion up with his hands.

Something _creaked_, and a breathy sigh escaped Spock's lips.

"One down," Leonard chuckled, running his left hand north up the laddered spine and down again, still bracing at least two thirds of his weight on that arm. Spock's spine flexed powerfully under the pressure, and he located the three primary neuropressure points above his hips with practised ease.

"That is not nec_essary_," the end of the word was lost in another strange sigh as Leonard pressed down, digging into the points and releasing a burst of tension.

"Only a Vulcan would retain this tension after being drugged up and fucked out," he remarked, trailing his fingers back down, whisper-light, and locating the next group of points. He paused, and cocked his head. "Are you still shielding?"

"A little," Spock murmured.

"Well, don't," he said, and dug his fingers in again.

With the sigh came a flood of emotion - both ways, some of the confident poise of Leonard's spine bending under the languid relaxation and contentment that echoed back at him, and a gentle curl of lusty possession seating itself in a familiar knot of similar, remembered sensations in the right of Spock's mind.

"What do I feel, right now?" Leonard asked, his voice beginning the slow drop out of conversation and into intention. Another pool of heated oil trickled into the crevice between Spock's shoulder blades, and was smothered by a large hand, which bore down hard on the knot there, before the fingers dug in either side and began to rotate small, intense circles into the muscle.

"You," Spock struggled to reach beyond the languid mess that Leonard had made of his mind. "You feel...dominant...possessive, dominant, powerful - you are...are lustful..._ah_."

"Go on," Leonard said idly, working on the thin skin under the shoulder blades, almost digging up under them in points. It was both intrusive and terribly pleasurable.

"You are...in control; you are..."

Those hands rubbed in one long push from hips to shoulder, and Spock felt the heat of Leonard's chest come down to hover just above his back. It was oddly erotic: he could not physically feel him, and yet the heat was _immense_, radiating off the Human skin with enough intensity that Spock could almost imagine the rasp of the chest hair against his back, or the drum of his heartbeat - and yet _neither _were accessible...

"I am in control."

Leonard's voice was very low - almost a whisper - and washed over his ear, mere millimetres separating his lips from the base. It felt like being told some sordid secret - or _being _that sordid secret.

"Tonight? I own you. I completely _own _you."

He was not moving: his weight was not dense, but the heat from his skin was branding, and his voice commanded Spock's attention. _Commanded_. Leonard was not wrong.

"This," his fingers rippled once in an idle pattern along the bones of Spock's shoulders. "This is mine. Every inch of this skin is mine. Every inch of what's inside it is mine. Every thought, every feeling, every action and reaction, equal and opposite. They are _mine_."

There was a short pause: and then the very last tense points bled out of the Vulcan's body, sinking into the same languid state as the rest of him and leaving every last one of those possessed inches at the mercy of the man with the power.

"Good," Leonard growled, leaning in a little closer to kiss the base of that exposed ear. "Very, very good, darlin'."

He did not lower his chest to Spock's back, as Spock had expected him to: instead, he shifted higher, straddling Spock's hips and pinning them to the bed, and leaning up to run his hands (still heavy with his weight) up Spock's forearms and to those long fingers.

"These _especially _belong to me," he said idly, stroking each fingertip in turn before bending one arm down to rest the hand at Spock's side-turned face. "You stroke your instruments and your padds and your reports all damn day on that ship, but at the end of the day? These are mine, even more than the rest of you, because I am the _only_. _Person_. Allowed to touch them. Is that clear?"

He abandoned the right arm and focused on the left, leaning close to Spock's ear again to breathe into it and almost idly stroking those fingers not inches from the Vulcan's face.

"Is that clear?"

Spock's breathing was becoming accelerated, and he more breathed, "Yes, Leonard," than said it.

"Good," Leonard repeated. "Very good."

Then he brought that index finger to his mouth and _sucked_.

Spock's hands were _sensitive_, and he gasped sharply, his chest heaving under Leonard's weight and his hips shivering between the doctor's thighs momentarily. Leonard allowed no respite, and nowhere to go; his tongue brushed the pad of the finger briefly before he straightened the middle finger and moved on to nip and suck there instead.

"Leonard - Leonard, please, please..."

Leonard paid no attention, and by the time he had reached the pad of the smallest finger, Spock's pleas had deteriorated into incoherent shivers and murmurs. His eyes were glassy, and his hips shaking with the desperate need to seek motion, friction, _anything _more than the forced inaction that Leonard's locked position afforded him.

Then he reached for Spock's abandoned hand, and those incoherent pleas rose again into vague words.

"Leonard, I need..."

"You'll get what you need," Leonard said idly, resettling firmly and drawing the index finger of that right hand to his mouth and blowing on it lightly. "But you'll get it when I'm damn good and ready. You're not in control here, darlin' - that would be me."

Spock subsided again, closing those glazed dark eyes and shivering through the stimulation, fingers twitching weakly in Leonard's grasp and hips never ceasing their intense, patterned shivering. By the time Leonard had treated every finger and returned both hands to the bedspread, Spock was entirely silent, and all the languid relaxation of his spine gone.

"You want to get to the point?" Leonard coaxed, shifting up and off Spock's hips, and sliding his hands under him to find the heavy cock beneath. He had barely touched it before Spock hissed through his teeth, and Leonard chuckled. "Listen to you. Damn vocal once you've had a good fucking, aren't you?"

"I..."

"Didn't say you could answer me," Leonard replied idly, stroking a single finger and nothing more up and down what had to be a marginally painful erection. "If I take care of this, you _will _come for a third time, and it _will _be once I'm inside you, you got it?"

Spock's hands clenched in the bedspread.

"Answer me."

"I..." Spock began, then paused. He was clearly struggling to think, and Leonard waited patiently, still stroking that one finger up and down, as lazily as a man tracing a fingertip around the top of a wine glass. "I...it is not my decision."

"No?" Leonard paused.

"It is yours."

"Why?"

"Because I am yours."

Leonard smiled; it was a lethal, _predatory_ smile. "That's right, darlin'. _Mine_."

His fist - hot and compact and callused and oil-slick and _mind-blowing_ wrapped itself around that hardness and _pumped_. There was no other word for it: powerful, tight motions that were akin to being milked, _dragging _the orgasm from Spock in a rush of mindless, blissful, incomprehensible pleasure, pressing him down into the mess of damp towel and hot hand and _himself _even as his second orgasm of the night tore any sense of coherency from him.

He came back to himself when the towel was stripped away, and those hot hands turned him over onto his back again, offering fleeting touches to the exposed skin before a weight settled upon him and Leonard returned with deep, probing kisses. Spock managed - with considerable effort - to bring shaking, damp fingers up to curl into the doctor's hair and feel another blast of _lustlusthotsodamnhotit'scriminalgoddamnit_...

"See what I do for you?" the doctor murmured around wet kisses. "I coulda held you off that until I was ready, but I didn't. Can't have toys if you're not goin' to treat 'em right."

"I am not a toy," Spock informed him breathlessly.

"Either a toy or a whore, darlin', and when you're pinned under me and beggin' for release, there ain't a whole lotta difference," Leonard drawled, beginning to shift again, rocking back up on his knees and leaving one last damp, clinging kiss to Spock's mouth and tongue and lips and _teeth_.

His hands - fire-branding hands - stroked south over flexing ribs and the concave stomach to settle disorientingly close to the now-limp cock before he turned the hips over - and by extension, Spock. The moment that Spock was settled, Leonard crawled back up his body, sinking over him like a quilt, lips close to that same exposed ear again.

"Feel that?" he asked, rolling his hips almost lazily; a distinct pressure pushed against Spock's ass, but not... "I'm not all the way there yet, sweetheart. I'm not as young as you anymore, and I don't have that Vulcan stamina on my side. So you're going to have to help me along a little here."

He did not leave room for questions, reaching for one of Spock's hands and twisting their fingers together before bringing it to his mouth.

"Now I'm pretty damn sure I just gave you the equivalent of a Vulcan blowjob, so why don't you show me how it's really done, huh?"

Spock's hips twitched up into his momentarily, before those thin lips parted and sharp teeth wrapped themselves about the first knuckle of his - their, both - index finger and a cool tongue began to lap rhythmically at the pad.

"The fact you even _know _how it's done..." Leonard drawled, and rocked his hips again. "Beginnin' to think you're more of a whore than you've let on to me, darlin'."

He was no telepath, but the wave of _submission-lust-owned-tornopenandpossessed _was unmistakeable.

"Oh, I ain't tearing you open," he growled, leaning down to bite at the lobe of Spock's ear as the tongue wrapped itself around his fingertip and it was sucked hard. "I treat my toys right: I'll have you all opened up and exposed and _vulnerable to me _until you're beginning me to get inside you, you got that?"

His thrusts were harder now, as the wave of pure _submission _and the sight of Spock with his lips wrapped around their fingers to the final knuckle and sucking like a pro went straight to his dick. The Vulcan's lips were swollen and bruised with attention, his eyes were half-closed and glazed, the base of his ear damp from Leonard's mouth, and his hair a mess: he was _sex_, pure _sex_, and the sight of him lapping and sucking, throat working, was lust defined.

"_Fuck_," Leonard snarled, growling the curse into that upswept ear. "Fuck, you have no idea. Orions look goddamn chaste next to what you're doin', you know that? You strip away all those barriers and all those walls and all that goddamn _sass _and this is what you are: fuck-bruised and ready to do it all again..."

He tore his fingers from that enticing mouth almost violently, and had Spock on his back in a second, hands working underneath him and pressing two fingers into him without pause. They were still slick from oil and spit, and he was still loose from their first round, and so he barely twitched as two fingers pressed up into him to the last knuckle.

"This is tearin' you open; _this _is possession, you got that? This is when _I own you_, every last part of you, because once I get inside you, I'm the only damn thing on your mind."

He did not bother - too heady, too lust-driven, too _pushed _- to add a third and instead went for broke, lining himself up and pushing in his cock until the head was swallowed in a vice-like pressure, gripping and _pulsating_...

"This'll be tearin' you open," he growled, and Spock gazed down at him from glassy eyes over a heaving chest. "This'll be possession."

Spock shook his head. "I am...already yours."

"Well, then," Leonard growled. "This is so you won't forget."

Spock cried out when he rammed in, back arching up into the waiting grip, and Leonard settled over him like a dead weight, pressing him down into the bed until he was entirely surrounded and pinned, immobile but for the fine shivers that danced along his back.

"Yours."

Leonard began to thrust - not the controlled thrusts of earlier, but wild, powerful thrusts that utilised his entire body and shook the bed in its frame. He thrust long and deep, to the limit of Spock's ability to take, and the outpouring of _lustsheerlust _was as overwhelming as the physical sensation.

Then he bent his head and pressed two of Spock's fingers into his mouth.

Any control - any thought, any sentience, any conscious knowledge and behaviour and _sense _- was lost then, lost to both of them. Muscles rippled up the doctor's spine as he held the Vulcan captive; that long frame shook and writhed in his grip as though trying to escape, but for the weak, desperate attempts to thrust upwards and cling to the power above. Their hips collided, their chests rasped; the smell of _sex_, musky and dank and permeating, overrode the oil and the relaxation that had gone before - and then -

There was the whipcord-snap of _completion_: the long spine arched up, moulding itself in, and a breathless groan of abandoned, mindless contentment. Everything _did _relax - in him. The coiled thrusts - power and life and vitality and masculinity - continued to shake the bed - the world, the universe - for a few moments more before that ripple, too, shot up the spine and under the dark hair, head thrown back and pleasure announced to the entire hotel.

He came down to a long, wet, grasping kiss in a shaking mouth, and smiled against the boneless pleasure waiting.

"You are...most possessive..."

"S'a human thing," he mumbled into that cool mouth, propping himself on his forearms above the lax body below and giving in to the exhausted post-coital pleasure of simple kissing. Spock tilted his chin up, pressing into the contact as much as he could, before eventually slipping, drained, to the bedspread.

"I am..."

"Still speechless?" Leonard asked, and chuckled, forcing exhausted muscles to reach for the abandoned towel. "That's gotta be a record."

"Most...likely."

"There y'go," he murmured, cleaning off Spock's twice-abused stomach and easing him over.

"Leonard, I cannot..."

"Oh hell no," Leonard chuckled. "Don't think I can either, sweetheart. Just cleanin' you up a bit."

He wiped him down gently and tossed the towel in the general vicinity of the ensuite door before peeling back the topsheet and rejecting that as well, and finally pushing the languid, exhausted _mess _of a Vulcan under the covers.

"Lights, off. How's your back?" he asked, and Spock made a noise that was distinctly sarcastic into his shoulder as he settled along the doctor's side.

"Tired."

"Fair enough," Leonard agreed, catching a wayward hand and kissing the back of it before settling it (and his) onto his chest. "That the last of your fuses?"

"Most certainly."

He kissed the top of the dark hair, and settled his other arm around the lean back, draping the fingers over the shiver of a heart in his side. "We're lying in tomorrow or so help me, I will handcuff you to the balcony railings and fuck you in full view of the city hall."

Spock said nothing, merely shifting marginally and relaxing into the lines of the doctor's body as though he had not even heard the threat.

"You might wanna put your shields back up," Leonard murmured drowsily, hand stroking lazily over Spock's fingers on his chest. "After all of that, you don't wanna hear my dreams tonight."

"Perhaps," Spock murmured. "Or perhaps they would repair my fuses."

Leonard snorted, and grinned in the darkness. "Oh no, darlin'. Not for at _least _a week."

**END.**


End file.
